Page 46 of Ogres Don't Play

I patted his shoulder. “It’s cute that you think I have affection to shift. Don’t worry. If the organ isn’t ready, I hear that Balry plays a mean tambourine.”

Tiago’s face was the picture of horror at the thought of anyone playing a tambourine, much less the great, revered organist. Balry was actually a vampire, so that would be extremely fitting for our concert. And he was coming all the wayfrom Europe? How global. Apparently, there were significant perks to seducing the heart out of the prince heir.

As I walked towards the organ hall, I considered. Is that really why Rook had repaired my music hall? Because I’d played his heart song and he couldn’t resist? What about me? I’d been under his spell the second he started singing, but it wasn’t my heartsong, and I definitely didn’t go into it looking for an ogre to love. Did I love him?

I stopped walking while the question beat at my brain. Well, he was Rook the Luthier, and I’d always been half in love with the idea of him. Maybe more than half. He was also one of my favorite elven composers. He was also the person who had saved my life on more than a few occasions. I’d have to be a complete psychopath not to be in love with a musician of that caliber after we did that incredibly memorable duet. I had a lot of elven blood, so I could definitely be a complete psychopath. Was that bitterness?

I shook my head and kept walking. I had to clear up a few things with Rook before I hunted down every musician and figure out when and where everything was supposed to happen, and see how ready they were. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t prepared my own pieces with nearly enough dedication, as I’d been so busy managing everyone else. The finale of the Jubilee would be Singsong City’s symphony, of course, but I needed to make a special arrangement for the occasion. Or I could have Rook do it, since he was a better composer.

I should be humiliated, but I was too bewildered to really register the pain of being bested by an ogre. I went through the door and then jerked to a stop when I saw Rook, balanced on a scaffolding, holding a massive gold pipe, with his shirt off, showing the play of extremely pretty pale blue muscles as he strained to get the pipe in place before he snapped a metal brace over it and started soldering.

I slowly walked down the aisle towards him, watching his arms, his hands, the perfection, grace, beauty in every movement. Oh, yeah. I was definitely in love with Rook the Luthier. No idea how that translated to the prince heir, but as Rook, definitely, yes. Let me sing all the love songs I’d ever memorized, at the time feeling like they were so obvious and stupid. Nope. They were extremely apt. He was all the breaths of spring, the cloudless skies, the scent of fresh flowers, and the taste of sweetest wine. I was about to break out my notebook and do some notation.

I stopped walking when the view would get worse if I got closer, just stood there staring like an idiot. Finally, he turned to look at me, His sharp cheekbones and soft lips looking particularly perfect.

“Are you okay?”

I blinked at him while his voice rattled something loose in my brain. “No. I slept for a week when I have the Jubilee to prepare for, also an assassin to hunt down. Make that two assassins to hunt down. How did the arrow get through my shield? How did you recover before I did? How long were you down? Where did you get my mother’s bracelet? Why do you have to be such a big stubborn ogre that takes so much magic to make throw up?”

He'd been walking towards me through my whole speech, so when I was finished, I was breathing hard, and he was quite close to me, so close that he could reach down and cup my face in his large, perfectly calloused hands. I know that, because he did, cup my face so I was gazing up at him while he gazed down, and it was the most perfect moment of idiotic romantic bliss the world had ever known.

“Driver is extremely good at delegating, also planning parties. He’s organized your music hall so that you have more time to do other essential things, like work on your own music.”His low voice was barely more than a whisper, and it went over my skin like a silk satin wing.

“And who is going to take over your duties so you can work on yours? Luthiel Slandriil is my favorite composer. I imagined he must have died in a duel or spent too long anguishing over a difficult passage and ended up killing himself from the pain of it, but no, you’re here, fixing my organ. You’re too practical to feel so deeply.”

“I felt very deeply when you burned that poisoned arrow out of my back. They tell me that you saved my life, but did you have to do it quite so agonizingly? I can’t remember the last time I screamed, but there I was, like a brownie getting its toes chopped off.”

I frowned at him. “You’ve chopped the toes off a brownie?”

“No, I’ve heard a brownie get its toes chopped off. I did eat the toes, but we wouldn’t want to waste his pain. The brownie in question was no good. Thought it would be a good idea to play tricks on an ogre. Not me. I am the nicest, most civilized, least violent ogre you will ever meet.”

I stared at him, his hands so gentle on my cheeks as he gazed into my eyes, my heart, my soul. “Most ogres are a lot more honest than you. My compulsion spell has clearly worn off.”

He smiled at me, showing his pretty little tusks. “I’m speaking as Rook, naturally.”

“Unnaturally. There’s nothing natural about being two people, one of whom takes up three times as many as the other. What’s the story with my bracelet?”

“We’re gazing into each other’s eyes, and you can think about that?”

“It’s the angel in me. We are extremely practical.”

“And virtuous. I know. I am hoping that once your hall is finished, and your Jubilee is a success, you will agree to be my bride.”

I blinked at him. “For a marriage proposal, that lacked a lot of romance.”

“Ah. I knew I forgot something. I’m not an angel. No part of me is, but I am the prince heir, so that gives me more flexibility. I can adapt to become whatever you need.”

“Can you? If you could, why would you want to? Surely you can write a new heartsong and not publicly publish it this time for anyone and their cat to play.”

One brow rose over his amused eyes. “No one and their cat could play Luthril Slandriil’s most pretentious, impossible piece, particularly in a way that was so extremely easy to listen to. Not a lot of people like the piece. It’s actually terribly unliked.”

I smiled and patted his shoulder, then slid my arms around his neck while I leaned against him. “That’s why I like it so much. The popular pieces are too overplayed. Were you sad that your heart song didn’t get instant commercial success? Don’t take it personally. Souls aren’t supposed to be commodities. It was pretty bold of you to put it out there when you knew it could be your undoing, undermine your lifelong work of running away from females.”

“It was an accident. Elves are so diabolical. After my Spring tune, you know it, because you know everything music related, I was asked countless times for something new, so I wrote that piece. It took me two hours. I just put something together that I hoped would be hated so much that they would leave me alone, but apparently, I shouldn’t have written it while I was wearing the wrong skin, because…”

“He wrote it?” I stared up at him while his eyes twinkled.

“The experiment proved that Rook is much more commercially viable than the Magr.”

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